I thank you for having thought to reassure me, but I am anxious about those flushed cheeks of which you speak so lightly. I regret sincerely, I assure you, that my persuasions brought you out in that frightful downpour. It happens seldom that I sacrifice others to myself, and when this does occur I am overcome with remorse. Anyhow, you are not ill, and you are not angry, which is the most important consideration.
It is a blessing that a small misfortune arises now and then to turn aside greater ones. We must give the devil his due. It seems to me we were both depressed, although happy enough at heart. Some joys are so deep that they do not show on the surface. I hope you felt a little of what I experienced. Until you tell me the contrary, I shall believe that you did. You say twice in your letter, “Good-bye, until we meet again!” You are sincere, are you not? But where and when shall it be? My last suggestion proved to be so unfortunate, that I am altogether discouraged. Henceforth I shall trust your inspirations only.
I have a wretched cold this evening, but the rain is not responsible for it, I fancy. I spent the entire morning in a room without fire, examining Chaldean and Persian talismans and rings, while the antiquarian was dying for fear I should steal them. Just to tease him, I remained in the cold room longer than my wishes inclined me.
Good-night, and may we soon meet. It is now your turn to command. Were it only to have you assure me that the rain has not given you a cold, or made you despondent or vexed, I should like to see you.
XL
Sunday night, January, 1843.
As for me, I was not very tired, and yet when I followed on the map the course of our peregrinations, I see that we should both have been worn out. The reason is, that happiness gives me strength, while from you it takes it away. Wer besser liebt? I dined out, and later went to a ball. I could not go to sleep for a long time, thinking of our walk.
You are right in saying that it was a dream. But is it not a great blessing to be able to dream when one wishes? Since you are the dictator, it is for you to say when you care to dream again. You say we were not considerate of each other. I do not understand. Is it because I made you walk too far? But how could we do otherwise? So far as I am concerned, I am perfectly satisfied with the way you treated me, and I should compliment you even more, if I did not fear that compliments might make you less kind in the future.
As for our follies, think no more about them; that is our prerogative. When you are inclined to find fault with anything, ask yourself if you would really and truly prefer the contrary. I should like you to answer this question frankly. But frankness is not one of your most conspicuous virtues.
You once ridiculed me, and took in an uncomplimentary sense what I said one day about sleepiness, or, rather, the lethargy that sometimes overcomes one too happy to find words in which to express his emotion. I noticed yesterday that you were under the influence of that drowsiness, which is well worth waiting for. I might in my turn have reproached you for your own reproaches; but I was too happy to disturb my happiness.